Sunday, December 11, 2005

Rule of Threes?

Do you believe that things happen in threes? Births, deaths, bad things, good things, etc.? Well, if you do, stop that nonsense right now. I mean it. It's for my safety. Here's the deal. In the past two weeks (week and a half, really), I have been to the ER twice. First it was with the baby (he's fine now), and today it was with my husband, who has a kidney stone, but will be fine. So, I do a little math and think, huh, with the rule of threes, we should have one more visit to the ER soon. Family of three...two of whom have already made their visits...let's see, I think that means...I'M DOOMED. Now, I'll happily go on record as saying that it's shocking that I've never in my life been to the ER for myself. However, I'll also go on record as saying I'D LIKE TO KEEP IT THAT WAY.

Now, here's a concern I have about the ER that is practically in our back yard (well, we can see it from our backyard, at least): the security guards who serve as the first person you see when you walk in have no sense of urgency whatsoever. I mean, I was really alarmed by their lackadaisical attitude on both of my visits (two different guards). The guard today couldn't even multitask. I really think that's essential for even the lowest man on the ER totem pole.

Here's another concern I have about the ER that is practically in our back yard: utter lack of hot doctors. Well, let me take that back. Both doctors that I've met now were pretty hot...females. There was no Dr. McDreamy to speak of, so I really don't want to have to go. Please keep me in your thoughts. I thank you.

Because if I take away the pacifier, someone might accidentally serve him ALCOHOL.

Where, oh where has my baby gone? Because that kid there is at least thirteen.
P.S. Nevermind the fact that we (I) make the poor kid wear a Cubs hat. And nevermind that that picture was taken in October, when the Sox were about to play in the World Series. HE JUST DOESN'T HAVE A SOX HAT. OK?

Friday, December 02, 2005

Parenting Tips?

In Target tonight, I decided to take a glimpse at my future and check out the selection of Elmo/Sesame Street DVDs (see previous post). I noticed that one of the DVDs had a little sticker on the outside that read, "Parenting tips inside." I had a little chuckle to myself as I imagined what the parenting tips could possibly be. In my mind, they went a little something like this:

  1. Put Red Crack in the DVD player.
  2. Quietly back out of the room.
  3. Enjoy 53 minutes of free time.
  4. Visit and donate your hard-earned cash. Remember, time is money, and we just gave you 53 minutes. Fork it over, fat man.

Thursday, December 01, 2005

Red Crack

What is it about Elmo that toddlers absolutely cannot resist? I didn't even realize that Eric could pick Elmo out of a crowd, but just this morning, the Elmadness began.

Shortly after his normal wake-up routine of getting out of the crib and looking out the window to see what's happening on our street, Eric spotted Limbo Elmo on his book shelf. He pointed up to him. "elmo." "Elmo." "ELMO." "ELMO!" So, we got Elmo down and played with him for a few minutes. Then I announced it was time to eat breakfast, and Elmo was instantly tossed aside.

Immediately after we finished breakfast, it started again. "Elmo?" "ELMO??" Hmmm...think quick, mom! It's 8 am and "Elmo" doesn't come on until 10. We have a couple of Sesame Street DVDs, but I couldn't remember how prominently Elmo was featured. Thank god for Comcast On Demand! It's Elmo you want? Elmo you get.

Elmo came on the screen and Eric was enraptured like I had never seen him before. This is so strange to me, because he really never paid that much attention to the TV before. I might turn Sesame Street on a few times a week, but it mostly ends up being background noise. Anyway. Whenever Eric would see Elmo on the screen, he would happily and lovingly say his name over and over again. When Eric didn't see Elmo on the screen, he would ask for him, more and more frantically. I mean, the kid was nearly in tears by the end of a particularly long non-Elmo vignette.

It's almost disturbing how quickly he became so attached to Elmo. The strange thing is, he really doesn't want anything to do with his stuffed Elmo, just TV Elmo. Dancing Elmo dolls seem to be OK (lucky me). So, based on what I can tell right now, our Christmas lists will look a little something like this:

All things Elmo

Hip Flask